


Wicked

by Oceanbourne



Category: League of Legends
Genre: F/F, Murder, Violence, it's not that explicit but tagging it just in case, wow there was really no other works for this pair
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2019-03-05 00:55:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13376697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oceanbourne/pseuds/Oceanbourne
Summary: “You’re hungry. And you relish the emotions that decorate a soul. There’s nothing more savory than someone who claims to defend balance but lets hypocrisy weight the scales.”





	Wicked

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this drabble with the ending lines in mind first. Ahri/Syndra isn't a ship I really write about or talk about, but it's one I do like, so I went with the notion that they were already together. So this is just basically a murder couple's covert ops doing their thing.

“Look there, between those two chestnut trees,” Syndra pointed out, a condemning finger steadily raised, “and you will see a repulsive specimen of a human being.”

Ahri blinked, pulling up her tails to her side. She was reclining against a fallen log, listening to Syndra sermonize from the perch in the tree branches above her. She peered towards the direction Syndra indicated, and frowned.

“I see a man in the white robes of a chancellor,” Ahri said, tapping her fingers against her knee. “A sign of peace. He will meet with the vastayan consulate in a few days.” She leaned forward, studying the man more closely. “I recognize him from the posters they hang up in the towns and villages. The humans love him, the vastaya respect him. Something about being ‘progressive.’”

“It is a lie,” Syndra insisted. “I also know his face, and what he aims to create. A bastion of protection, meant to safeguard the magic of the land.”

Ahri looked up. “That sounds… superficial. But still a good thing for the vastaya.”

“Perhaps on paper,” Syndra answered, shaking her head, “but it doesn’t register in practice. I have peered into his future, and seen the wickedness he tries to shroud. What the vastaya believe to be a well from which they can safely draw magic is actually a conduit to funnel the land’s magic into this bastion.” Syndra descended from her perch, seating herself atop the log.

“That bastion doesn’t give magic equally to the vastaya and the humans. Naturally, the Council has tipped the scales into their favor.” Syndra materialized a dark sphere, letting it float in her palm. “The extent of their greed is remarkable.”

Ahri gave the man a second look. She turned to Syndra, materializing her own sphere of essence. The orb had specks of white, the verdant green dimmer than the day before.

“I can already tell he is brimming with memories. He has accomplished much in his life.”

“And not a single righteous deed,” Syndra stressed. She looked towards Ahri. “You’re hungry. And you relish the emotions that decorate a soul. There’s nothing more savory than someone who claims to defend balance but lets hypocrisy weight the scales.”

She watched Ahri turn back towards the chancellor, sitting up and acting more attentive.  _ Good. The predator emerges. _

“He’s coming this way.” There was a pathway next to the ridge upon which the sat, obscured from sight by a row of hedges in front of them. If they crouched behind the hedges, they would have a clear shot as he came around.

“Then there isn’t much time to deliberate, is there?” Syndra placed her feet on the ground, letting the grass tickle her soles. Always an electric feeling.

Ahri’s ears perked up. “So you plan on taking him out now?” The chancellor came into view from the small gaps in the hedge, and would arrive just below their hiding spot in a matter of seconds.

Syndra turned to the fox, baring her teeth in a wolfish smile.

“Not I, no. This one’s all _ you _ .”

She saw the white robes come up the pathway. Reaching out with her hand, Syndra made a pushing motion. A second later, the chancellor veered to the left and stumbled, his foot catching on the long robes. He fell onto the ground, groaning and clutching the elbow upon which his body had collapsed.

Syndra turned to look at Ahri, but she had already left.

The fox was a blur of red, jumping down towards the chancellor and making a landing behind him so quiet that Syndra could have heard a pin drop at the same time. Ahri threw her orb, the sphere passing through the man’s chest, and with a flick of her fingers she drew it back. The chancellor clutched at his chest, head pointed to the sky and mouth agape.

Ahri hurried towards him, breathing in. That was the sign of her charm, Syndra could tell. The man’s expression didn’t change, but she knew his eyes were growing heavy.

Pulling her hand down, a trio of fox-fires appeared in Ahri’s palm. There was a moment of inaction, as she lingered over the body of her charmed victim, before she plunged the fires into his chest. The chancellor let out a croak, before his limbs gave out and he keeled over onto the ground, face-down.

Ahri turned her head left and right, looking for any witnesses. Syndra reached out with her senses, too, but couldn’t perceive any traces of organic magic. She signalled to Ahri, and the two pulled up the body by a combination of Ahri picking him up by the arms and Syndra using her magic to lift his lower body.

The two women turned his body face-up. Syndra kneeled over him, sifting through his possessions for anything of value. They discovered a sack hanging from his waistband, which Syndra reached for.

“What are those vials in the leather?” Ahri asked, pointing to a set of assorted liquids, each displaying a different color, in glass tubes.

“Not just a chancellor,” Syndra noted, “but an alchemist by trade.” She pointed towards an orange one. “This is a liquid used in magic transferral. And while this doesn’t necessarily confirm anything…”

“You believe he wanted to bring the magic from within the earth into the conduit,” Ahri finished.

“And into the hands of the Council.” Syndra clasped her hands, a smirk on her face. “You may not see it now, but we have prevented a major part of the elders’ plan to further marginalize the vastaya.”

“I wonder what exact part he played in this plan.” Ahri was focused on his face, still frozen in a state between terror and desire.

“Search his essence,” Syndra suggested, “and see if that does not satisfy you.”

Ahri nodded, and placed two fingers on his chest. A colorless fluid began to bleed from where she had made contact, a wispy substance that glowed green as it flowed towards her fingers. It accumulated into a pale sphere, similar in structure as Ahri’s orb, and it fell into Ahri’s palm as she turned her hand over.

“Amazing,” Ahri said, marveling at the orb. Syndra could not see what she was seeing, but she knew that the memories of the chancellor had poured open to her as she dug them out of his body and mind. “Everything he did, he believed it was in the name of good.”

“Perhaps he was a pawn then, used by the Elders. Or deluded by a false idea of justice,” Syndra mused. “All the same, in the end.”

“The souls with the most vibrant beliefs always had the most colorful essence.” Ahri licked her lips. “Good, or evil - whichever morality people view each other in. It’s the same in the end.” Ahri opened her mouth, pressing the orb to her tongue. It melted upon contact, but Syndra could still see the faint green outline of the orb emit from her lips. Ahri hummed, her eyes glowing a bright amber.

“Delicious?” Syndra asked.

Ahri could only nod in content.

Syndra moved forward, a hand reaching out to cup Ahri’s chin. Ahri’s eyes were still glowing from the ecstasy of devouring essence.

“Predators can never stray from the thrill of dominance for too long.” Syndra tilted her head. “Despite your attempts to deny it, you had always enjoyed it.”

“You sound like you want a taste,” Ahri spoke in a low voice, her eyelashes fluttering between deliberate blinks.

“I do.”

Syndra did not need to taste the essence to experience the elation. The kiss was warm, ragged, equal parts Ahri’s animal instinct and residue of the stolen essence. By the force with which Ahri pressed against Syndra, she hadn’t yet lost the fiery rush of eliminating their prey. Syndra felt herself acceding to Ahri’s push, moving closer and closer to the ground before Ahri was directly on top of her.

_ Good. _

But before Syndra allowed herself to become completely overwhelmed, she pulled away. Ahri’s face was red, and she knew her own cheeks were warm.

“See?” Syndra asked. “It’s no mortal sin to become a monster.”

Ahri smiled. “And neither is loving one.”


End file.
